[ billy joel's "uptown girl" playing in the distance ]

[inventor]

Who: howard stark + you??????
Where: around town
When: late afternoon, early evening of feb. 24
What: after turning a motorcycle in to a pseudo-snowmobile, howard picks up chicks, commits drive-by snowballing, helps people (for $20), and tries to get home before the next snowfall. prepare for a story more epic than lassie come home, star trek: voyager, and homer's the odyssey combined and times a billion.
Warnings: everything under the sun and in the gutter.

[open]

( when the sheriff says "snowstorm", howard sees that as a challenge rather than the obvious advisory that it really is. he thinks, screw the sheriff, and decides that getting home is more important than safety. what is even safety? (no seriously, what is safety? he doesn't know that word.)

it turns out, that something off in the corner covered with a tarp, is a motorcycle. what luck! and, greatest of lucks, he's able to use the power tools, the lawn maintenance equipment, parts of the recycling bin, and the christmas decorations that haven't been put away yet to modify the motorcycle in to a pseudo-snowmobile. it takes him several hours and several curse words to do so, but it happens.

by the time he pulls out of the garage, the sky is already painted white with streaks of pinks, blues, and yellows splashed across like a j. m. w. turner painting (not that howard knows who that is). behind the thin layer of clouds, the sun sets and a few stars twinkle prettily and faintly in the inky blackness. across town, the bell tower strikes five o'clock, piercing the still crispness of the area. the land is covered with a fresh blanket of snow, completely undisturbed. it's silent and still, and it feels like the second day of creation. that is, until the distinct sound of howard's motormobile spoils the mood. with a flick of his wrist and a hard jerk of his foot against the kick starter, the motormobile roars to life, growling with the ferocity of a monster out of those b-grade movies that are shown down at the local cinema. he revs the bike a few times then, satisfied, closes the choke and opens the throttle. ass planted squarely on the seat, he adjusts his gloves then his coat, and he is off!

howard pulls out of the driveway and turns east (towards home). his plan: play hero to stranded beautiful women and give them rides on his motormobile (— which, yeah, he sees the flaws in the plan, namely that beautiful women are more than likely indoors today than out; but he also sees the flaws in the flaws, namely that there might be a few beautiful women out needing rides and he could be missing out on some action, if you know what) — oh he means, his plan is to go straight home! yeah, that's his plan. not pick up chicks. because that would be dumb and, as is known, howard is not dumb.

he rides around town, regrettably not finding one single stranded beautiful woman (only men and one somewhat pretty woman that, sadly, turned out to be married). it's almost like all everyone is smartly listening to the sheriff and safely indoors while all the idiots (howard) are outdoors. huh. still, howard's sure that he'll look pretty dashing walking in to his house with his wind-whipped hair, red cheeks, and coat covered with snow, and that's all he really needs. but it's still early. his prospects could change when he turns down the right street.

howard stark on a homemade snowmobile. coming to a street near you! (now there's a scary threat.) )

Comments

[inventor]

( after about two hours of riding, he stops and figures it's high-time he heads back home but, thank heaven!, he suddenly spots a figure ahead of him. from a distance, howard can only make out that it's small, but that's good enough for him.

so he kicks his motormobile into high-gear and races to aid this stranded and hopefully voluptuous creature. when he's close enough, he sees that, yes indeed it is a woman (although he only sees her from behind, he assumes that she's beautiful because there's no way in hell an ugly woman can have a killer figure like that). he calls out to her, ) Good evening, miss. May I be of service?

( his tone is gentle, even bereft of smarminess, but that smirk and mischievous glint flashing in his eyes indicates otherwise. )

[flowerida]

[ Aaaand this is the point where the woman stops mid-shovel and turns, revealing herself to be a 45 year old man with amazingly well-groomed hair. Butch stares at Howard for a good second there, right before his face slowly lights up with the toothiest, most brilliant grin of someone who'd just witnessed something amazingly stupid happen before their very eyes. ]

Howard! [ he laughs, leaning against his shovel and giving the other man a sly look. ] Didn't take you for the senior-helping, boy scout sort there, buddy-o!

[inventor]

( as if this is the first time howard's mistaken a 45 year old man with amazingly well-groomed hair for a woman... today. butch should take howard mistaking him as a woman as a compliment! either way, howard doesn't feel any embarrassment and his face doesn't break from its usual smarmy look. honestly, if he allowed shame or embarrassment to cloud his judgement every time he did something stupid, he would stop doing stupid things and get on the straight and narrow. frankly, that's something he's just not tempted to even think about.

his grin does loses its wolfish edge and softens. ) Pray tell, pal-o. What do you take me for?

( after all, it's nice time for a poll to see where howard stacks up in the community. )